


Everybody needs a plan (mine is a better way)

by marlowe78



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Knotting, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-19
Updated: 2013-10-19
Packaged: 2017-12-29 21:14:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1010172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marlowe78/pseuds/marlowe78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Never judge a book by it's cover, never assume sheep when you see wool.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everybody needs a plan (mine is a better way)

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so this was a fill for the kinkmeme, and I think I like it enough to come clean and post it here.  
> It's a lot more kinky than I usually like to write, but the story around the kink is good enough that I want to share it. So yeah... you can skip the kink if you wanna.
> 
> If you like timid omega-fics, this is definitely not your story.

Boy, were they all wrong.

Greg Henley, boss of the Henley Street Preachers and everything a holy man would never even have nightmares about ever being, had warned them. _Dudes, I don’t think this is a very good idea_ , he’d said, but nobody had listened to him. In fact, when they’d realized he wouldn’t send his men out with theirs to take over Padalecki’s organization from the inside and outside at the same time, they’d framed him with murder and in the following shoot-out with the ATF, Greg had been shot up so badly that he’d never recover. 

He was alive but a vegetable and no-one really mourned him. 

Except now, after realizing the error of their ways, kneeling on the cold concrete with their hands raised behind their heads, they were starting to believe it might have been better listening to his warnings.

Too late now.

 

**

 

“Jensen,” Jared growled, grabbing his lover’s junk right in front of everyone. He loved doing that, show everyone who Jensen belonged to, show them his strength and power, his ability to keep someone as beautiful and strong as Jensen at his side. 

He didn’t know that most of his men saw it a little differently, most – maybe all – a lot more stereotypical alpha than was adjuvant for their brain-cells. They followed him because he was hard and strong and quick with his vengeances, tough and powerful. He knew what his men wanted and needed, gave them just enough to have them crave more. He was a smart leader, but most of all, he was a powerful man and he made them shiver and cower in fear.

A good thing in any alpha’s book, though Jensen always thought it was a bit too simple. 

“Jay,” he bit out when the fondling turned into a painful squeeze, yowled when it got too much to be still considered sexy. Jared, though, wasn’t even looking at him. Instead, he had his eyes on his men, the three dumbest pieces of shit if you asked Jensen. He never thought them fit for the job as third, fourth and fifth in the organization; especially because all of them thought that they stood right behind Jared. Assholes, that was Jensen’s place, and they should know that. The fact that they didn’t was a constant reason for fights, Jared firmly believing it never paid to have smart people as his subordinates while Jensen kept saying that they shouldn’t hire MIT-professors, but a little brain would go a long way. 

He usually gave up his arguing when Jared put him on his back and nibbled his neck, whispering that he didn’t need _another_ smart man among his people, that Jensen was smart enough for all of them.

That was true, of course. Still…

“Jared,” he hissed now, trying to squirm off the big conference table where his husband and boss had placed him and struggling to keep the big Pada-Paws out of his jeans. It hurt, fuckit, and while it was fine to play with pain a little in the bedroom, Jensen didn’t want it now. Especially when he saw the three faces behind him, smirking and leering at them. 

He hated those fuckers. Tom, David and Patrick, dumb as white-bread and horny as a pack of street-mutts. Shit, they were their own whores’ best customers. Sighing, he let his head drop onto Jared’s shoulder, giving in just a little. He’d get him back for it tonight, and maybe it would actually get the point across to the three Stooges. Jensen highly doubted it, but miracles did happen.

“If you’re done with your display of manliness, how about you let me down before I rip a new, exciting opening into your windpipe?” He whispered, and felt Jared shudder in delight. For some extremely weird reason, his big, burly, strong cave-man alpha loved nothing more than hearing Jensen say violent things to him, promising pain and retaliation and even sometimes death. 

“Babe,” Jared growled back, bucking his hips into the V of Jensen’s spread legs and Jensen felt him, hard and hot even through two layers of clothes. Four, if you counted the underwear. “I gotta have you, now, right the fuck now…”

“You can, but get those idiots out first.”

“Don’t mind us, boss,” Stooge One piped up and Jensen rolled his eyes. Unbelievable, how anyone could have that much nothing in his head and keep on breathing. The mood was gone and with a sharp bite, he reminded Jared that public fucking was one of the few kinks Jensen didn’t have. It wasn’t a love-bite either, and the little yelp Jared let out put a smirk on Jensen’s lips.

Jared coughed, and then straightened. A little wistful look at Jensen but he turned around and wiped his precome-slicked fingers in Jensen’s jeans. Fucker.

“All right, men, listen. We all know it’s not the best timing that I have to go now, of all times, right when we want to get the big deal with the Zairians next year. But it can’t be helped. It’s just a short stint, just three months. We can wait that long, there’s still time. We’ll plan some more, get every wrinkle out of the Big Plan and when I’m back, we’ll take the deal, take everything. We’re kings in this district, but once we got done, we’ll rule the west-coast.”

The Stooges grinned and nodded, one of them – Patrick – even growled out a _Yeehaw_. Jensen just barely kept his eyes from rolling out of his head. Idiot. 

“Now, listen up. While I’m gone, you’ll listen to Jensen. He’s my man,” and his voice rose with the _my_ “and he’s in command. He knows what’s to do, got my trust. You do good with him, and I’ll be good with you.” The _If you don’t, you won’t like it_ was left hanging in the air. 

Three faces stared back at their boss, surprised and a little pissed. They probably thought they hid it well, and maybe Jared alone wouldn’t have seen it, confident in his place in this world as he was. The sly glance the three threw each other once Jay turned a little to write some instructions on his pretty, expensive stationary was enough to make alarm-bells ring in Jensen’s head.

“Now, we got some planning to do. Jensen, we already talked about it. Wait for me at home.” It sounded like an order, was meant as one, a show of dominance in front of his subordinates. Usually, Jensen didn’t mind. Now, though, it was one of the dumber moves his mate could make. 

Still, disobedience _now_ would make a bad situation worse. He sighed. This was so not going to go as planned.

 

**

 

“I love you. I don’t want to go,” Jared pouted into Jensen’s neck. “I want to keep you,” he thrust up and Jensen grunted in reply, too fucked-out to form more coherent words. They’d been going at it for hours, Jared determined to get all the sex he’d be missing out on in the next twelve weeks. Jensen hadn’t minded so much in the beginning but now he was just sore and tired and wanted to be cuddled. He’d be out of cuddles for a long time, soon. 

But Jared wasn’t done yet, his cock still tied off with the knot-ring. He dug his paws under Jensen’s grip-bruised hips and lifted them up, his dick still wedged in tightly in Jensen’s ass, alongside the Fildo, a bendy silicone-toy designed to keep a fucked-out omega tight. It wasn’t comfortable anymore, and the moan from Jensen was less _yes, more, fuck me_ and more _let me sleep, you big ox_. Jared in the throes of fucking, though, wasn’t really good at interpreting grunts and just thrust in harder, shoving Jensen up the bed against the headboard. For a second, Jensen thought about just letting his lover bang his head against the wood, knock him out so he could finally sleep, but then he remembered that he’d not have Jared with him next night, and the next and next and next. 

A lump of emotion welled up and he swallowed hard, then reached towards the headboard and braced himself. “C’mon,” he croaked, voice used up from crying out and yelling and screaming half the night as Jared pounded him and used him and fucked him with all of himself and a lot of their toys. At once, sometimes. The Fildo had started itching, its flat base knocked down deeper and deeper than it should, the outside of the toy chafing along Jensen’s insides. Even the lube was getting tired, it seemed, and his own slick had long-since been fucked away. _At least_ , Jensen thought while he braced his arms hard so Jared could put more force into his thrusts, _at least I’ll be so sore that I won’t miss the sex too much._ Enough was enough, then. “C’mon, knot me, get me filled up, fuck me with your big knot, Alpha.” 

Jared howled, unbelievable that he still had the energy. A millisecond long, Jensen saw that weird Energizer-Bunny behind him, pounding his ass while playing his little drum, but then he stopped all conscious thought when his alpha sped up even more, shoved deep and hard and harder. Jensen felt fingers against his ass, then the snick of the knot-ring being opened. The loud shout from Jared was the only warning he got when the dick inside him shuddered and spat out come even before the knot had formed, then he felt it swell. Thick and heavy, Jensen felt it against his walls – one side still covered by the Fildo, sadly – and once again he was astonished by its sheer _size_. His breath came in short bursts and blood pumped in his head, as if he was feeling Jared’s heartbeat through his dick in his own body. 

Later, in the weeks he'd wait for Jared to come home, Jensen would think of the sharp pain when the knot was dragged out of him, the sobs from his throat ripping out like Jared’s dick from his ass. He’d remember the bereft feeling and then the overwhelming sting of _too much, too much, not enough_ when Jared shoved his dick back inside, forcefully thrusting in until his completely swollen knot was pushed into Jensen as well, hurting, stinging so bad, so good, too much and yet exactly perfect.

When it happened, though, he wasn’t able to form any kind of conscious thought, too filled with desire and longing and sadness and love. Too much love.

 

**

 

“You be a good boy now.” Jared was looking at Jensen, at his beautiful, perfect mate. His partner, in bed and in crime, love of his life and the only family he wanted. If he lost all his wealth and power tomorrow, he wouldn’t mind as long as Jensen would stay with him.

“Big, sappy idiot,” Jensen teased him as if he heard his thoughts. He always did that, always knew what Jared was thinking. “You know I won’t leave ya behind. Don’t worry about me.” 

There were no _don’t forget me_ s or _don’t get another bitch, please my alpha_ s, and there would never be. Jensen knew what he had, knew who he belonged to and that Jared would always take care of him.

“I don’t worry about you,” Jared smirked back. “Try to not take over the world while I’m gone.”

One of the things he loved best about his mate was his laugh. Every form of it, the loud, overwhelming laughter with his head thrown back, neck bared. The smiles and smirks as well as the mirthful chuckles, but there was something about the quiet, nearly bashful loving expression that sometimes crossed over Jensen’s handsome features, making him look younger still and more stunning than he already was. 

People didn’t get to see that smile often. It was something special, for Jared alone. “I'll try,” Jensen promised, and that would have to be enough. 

With a heavy sigh, Jared picked up his duffle and walked towards the door. He would wait outside the gate, didn’t want the fucking police inside his home. Didn’t want them to see this pretty picture: of Jensen, scruffy and sleepy from last night with sadness in his eyes and a hint of pain whenever he shifted. 

It was his picture, and no-one would spoil it for him. 

A growl grew in his throat and he bent over the couch, hands resting left and right of Jensen’s face on the pillow. He wanted that mouth again, would love nothing better than to have his mate lick and suck his dick again – and again and again – until Jensen’d choke and get blue in the face. He wanted to claim Jensen once more, fuck him hard and wild just like last night and he was only a tiny little bit remorseful when he spotted the wince and heard the hiss from his lover. “Omega,” he whispered, “spread them for me,” as he nudged his knees between Jensen’s thighs.

A hard shove shook him out of his heat-filled mind, a growl from Jensen and a sharp, very much not playful bite to his lip. “Shove it somewhere else, Grunt,” Jensen sneered. “I’m too sore for anything and you know it. You made damn sure I won’t be wanting anyone in the near future, but your alpha-brain forgot that ‘anyone’ includes you. You want some ass? Find yourself a little prison-bitch. Or next time, tighten your reins a little during sex.”

Jared would not, not even on his deathbed, confess that he was pouting when Jensen kicked him off the couch and onto his knees. He’d also never confess that he tried to persuade his omega to let him blow him, and certainly not that Jensen _refused_. Omegas didn’t refuse a blow job – not from their alpha, and they didn’t refuse sex. Ever. That was what he’d learned, but damn if Jensen seemed to have missed that lesson.

“But I don’t want a prison bitch – I want you,” he said, sad face and puppy-eyes on full power. For a short moment, he was sure it had worked as Jensen leaned over, looking directly into his eyes. 

He only growled, though, low and sexy. “And you better not forget it, Padalecki. You won’t like it if you do.”

Before he could answer, the guard at the gate called, telling Jared the police was waiting to bring him to his new accommodation for the next twelve weeks.

Dear God, how was he supposed to survive twelve weeks without Jensen!

 

**

 

Jensen liked being right. He usually was, though he often had the wits to refrain from saying so out loud. He had a knack for details, for remembering them and using the memory to his advantage. It had brought him to where he was now, second most-powerful man on the west-coast. Sure, he was omega, but that had never bothered him. He’d always gotten what he wanted, either through smarts or through his strength. Jensen was a tall man, nimble and strong. He’d make a formidable alpha from looks alone but nature had thought it funny to mess with him when she made him omega. 

Once, a long time ago, some knot-headed alpha had tried to tame a teenaged Jensen, break him and transform him into the obedient little nothing most alphas seemed to crave. 

He’d not been successful, and he’d paid for all the things he’d done in his misguided efforts to make Jensen behave “like an omega should”.

Jensen had kept the sharp-spiked prong-collar, hidden away between his childhood-memorabilia to remind him that it was always worth fighting for what you wanted. That there was no reward for backing down. Jared had once asked about the fine scars on his neck, but he’d not dug further when Jensen said it was nothing of importance.

And it wasn’t. It had been pain and humiliation, but he’d given back what he’d received, with interest.

He’d been right then in deciding there was more waiting for him than being a little bitch and rolling over whenever his alpha desired, right to seek power of his own. Right to choose Jared (who still thought he was the one who’d chosen) and he had been right now.

Though for once, Jensen wouldn’t have minded to be wrong.

 

**

 

The phone woke him from a pleasant slumber and so it was probably forgivable that he only croaked a “Huh?” into the phone. It was four in the morning, for god’s sake. 

“Misha?” 

Jensen’s voice sounded strained, and the omega was awake in an instantly. “Jensen?”

“Remember what we talked about, that one time?”

Misha didn’t have to think long, knew exactly what his boss and friend was talking about, had been waiting for the moment to come, to be honest. Still, it had been four weeks since Jared had gone to prison, and it had seemed to be going well. Apparently not. 

“Sure I do,” he answered, already up and on the way to the bathroom. Whatever his orders would be, he needed to piss first. Also, his pants were still next to the sink where the overeager alpha had undressed Misha for a quicky in the shower. “Need me now?”

“Hmmm… I might be able to stall them for a bit. But if you can manage, I’d rather have the problem solved soon.”

“Got it, boss.” Misha buckled his belt when he heard the commotion through the phone, mocking voices and taunts. “I’ll be quick,” he reassured, then hung up. He had shit to do.

First things first: the knot-head in his bed needed to vanish. 

 

**

 

“Hey, Pretty, where are you?” Patrick smiled in anticipation. He and his two friends had staged the coup, their men wiping out most of Padalecki’s obedient followers and replacing them with their own guys. It had taken some time, one here, one there, feigning shock when Henley got his dues from a police-bullet. And Fuck-Lips hadn’t been any wiser. 

When Padafuck had left his boy-toy in charge, Tommy and David and Patrick had first thought it was a joke. A bad joke. Who’d leave a fucking _omega_ in charge or an organization full of alphas? Who did such a thing?

Nobody did, or well, nobody should do it, Patrick thought as he tried to sniff out his prey. Omegas were nothing but fucktoys with mobility, couldn’t even bear children. What was their use apart from fucking them? 

Nothing. 

They needed to be knotted and put in their place, and their place was the bed. Or well… any surface really, not necessarily a mattress. 

“Oh Jensen-baby,” he mocked again, loudly and just a little impatient. “I know you’re here, I can smell you. I know you’ve been waiting for me. Or maybe for David. For all of us, right?” 

After getting done with their plan, overthrowing all the street-lords and replacing them with better men, stronger men who wouldn’t follow a weak-in-the-head alpha like Padalecki, they had drawn straws. One of them would get to fuck Jensen, mark him up inside and out. They’d take turns later, have a little foursome after the initial claiming, maybe take him three at a time? Yeah… Fuck, he was getting hard already, thinking about the noises Jensen would make when they were knotting him from both ends, twice from the backend. 

“You ready for me? For your new alpha?”

He’d gotten the long straw, he’d be the one to break little pretty Jenny in, show him his new place at the foot of the bed, maybe even underneath it. Remove all the Padalecki-stench from this house and from Jenny’s skin. “Oh Jenny… I know where you are… I’m coming to get you now…” 

Patrick found him in the bedroom. How convenient.

 

**

 

“Yeah, fuck, you really are born to take alpha-dick, ugh…”

Jensen rolled his eyes. He couldn’t stand dirty-talk during sex, only allowed Jared to blabber his alpha-brain out when he was either too far gone to care or when he wanted to spoil his lover a little. Most times, he just started laughing so hard that Jared couldn’t go on. It was apparently hard to keep a hard-on when your bed-mate was shaking from laughter. It didn’t help that usually Jared would start to pout, his lower lip stuck out like a little kid would do when you told him you ate all the candy. Jared could be so utterly cute, and got even cuter whenever Jensen told him. _I’m not cute!_ he’d say in utter outrage, not convinced when Jensen tried to smooth his feathers with praises to his manhood and alpha-ness. He’d calm down, though, and the comfort-sex was one of the best things in their life. 

Yes, Jensen liked to be treated like a precious object. Sue him.

“Agh, your lips!” Ah, right. 

Jensen turned his mind back to the presence, to the slightly precarious situation he was in right now. Stooge One had kicked open the door to the bedroom, just as he’d ended the call to Misha. Sure, he’d told his friend he’d be alright for a while longer, could keep the Stooges occupied, but in all honesty, Jensen hadn’t thought _this_ would be how he’d stall them. 

He knew Patrick wasn’t alone, had heard all three of the idiots come into _his house_ , invade _his home_ with their little, self-important brainless pretty heads, and he was really grateful that only one of them had started chasing him through the bedroom.

How degrading, being chased around the bed by some fucking stupid alpha, pretending to be scared. He could’ve taken Patrick out in a heartbeat, but Misha needed time to set the backup-plan in motion and get all the chess-pieces into positions. 

So that’s why he’d let Stooge One grab his arm, that’s why he let him pull him across the bed and down to the floor. That’s why he fought like a little kitten – fierce and angry but with his real skills dimmed down to make it believable and yet, futile.

That’s why he wasn’t biting the dick that was being shoved into his mouth over and over again and just relaxed his jaw, playing obedient little omega like his very first alpha had taught him. 

“Yeah, so good, so good. Ugh, I can believe how you got Padafuck wrapped around your finger, you little bitch,” Patrick grunted, shoving in deeper and gripping Jensen’s hair with painful strength. Jensen couldn’t suppress the groan and subsequently felt Patrick’s dick twitch and grow inside his mouth. 

Oh no, he’d not let that dumb piece of shit knot his mouth. No way! 

He struggled a little, pretending to choke. As if. Jensen could suck dick better than most whores. No reason for Jared to stray, find some bed-bunny who satisfied any urge Jensen wouldn’t. No way would he let anyone else get their fingers on his man, not while he was still breathing. Maybe not even after his death. 

After all, Jensen knew how dangerous omegas could be.

“Oh, little minx, trying to be coy now? Huh, you scared of my big cock, aren’tcha? Big Padafucky not enough, right…” Yeah… right. Jensen barely managed to contain a snort. “But just don’t worry, this is going to knot inside your little cunt-hole, darling. No need to fight for it…” With surprising strength, he shoved Jensen away from him, knocking him hard against the bed. For a second, Jensen saw stars, then felt something wet and hot trickle down his neck. Oh great. Jared would be so pissed about that, he might even excavate them and piss on their bones.

When he was back to his senses, Patrick had shoved him onto the bed and was sitting on his chest, dick bobbing happily right in front of Jensen’s chin. That wasn’t an invitation, though, and Jensen realized that he was cuffed to the headboard. “Look what I found here,” the Stooge smirked down on him, holding the spiked collar in his hand. “Looks like Padafucky did try to make you an honest alpha. Or is that his?”

“You put that on me, you’ll regret it more than anything else you did,” Jensen growled, happy when Patrick only smirked. Let him laugh. He’d soon realize his mistake. 

“This, I wanna see.” 

Hook, line and sinker.

When the sharp spikes bit into the back of his neck where it rested against the mattress, Jensen widened his eyes. “No, come on, please. Don’t do that, please. Patrick…. Alpha!” He begged, noticing Patrick’s pupils grow large and black in anticipation of the sweet and now obedient little omega he had in front of him. Smirking, Stooge One bent down over Jensen, licking at the collar and nibbling at its sides. “You’ll learn to like it. You’ll learn to love it.” His hand wandered down between Jensen’s legs, feeling out his asshole. 

“Surprising, you’re still tight like a virgin.” _Yes, because I fucking take care of me, not like the whores you usually fuck,_ Jensen thought and retrieved the keys to the cuffs from their secret hiding-place in the headboard, then felt for the sharp razorblade a little further – and a lot better hidden.

What? Jared sometimes forgot to untie him after sex. There was no use staying chained all night or tied with ropes just so his arms could get numb. He’d never be able to protect Jared if someone attacked them. 

Also, it never hurt to be prepared for betrayal. Not that Jared might… but shoulda-woulda-coulda was such a nasty thing to say.

“Don’t worry, Prettyface, my partners’n me, we’ll be filling you so nicely tonight, you’ll never be tight again. You’ll like it. All of us, all of-“ 

 

**

 

“Pat, come on; let us have some fun now! It’s been over an hour!” David yelled into the door. It was just absolutely unfair that Patrick was the one to always win the competitions. David never got anything first. 

“Pat?”

No answer, but… something moved inside. He leaned against the wood, trying to listen. Maybe he could get at least some nice sounds. “Help,” something whispered, “please help me…”

Frowning, David pushed open the door, then stopped moving. 

The sight in front of him was the last thing he’d expected, and it made his insides freeze. 

“Help? Please!”

Jensen, Jared’s little fuckboy was spread-eagled on the bed, legs and arms bound to the four corners of the giant kingsize, naked as the day he was born, only wearing a wide leather-collar. He would look delicious if it weren’t for the blood. 

It was all over, soaking the sheets and dripping to the floor, covering Jensen from his hairs to his groin, slick, shiny, crimson red. 

“Oh my God… what…” 

“Please, I… I don’t know… Please. I’ll do anything, just…”

With a few steps, David was at the bed, but he recoiled when he found his partner right there, still twitching with a gaping hole instead of his throat. “Pat…?” He stopped, staring down. What had happened? Was that … wasn’t that a cut?

 

** 

 

As Misha ran up the stairs, taking two steps at a time, he wasn’t entirely sure what he’d find. Or how he’d continue if he found what he feared most. There was no going back, he’d already taken one step too many to ever be what he had been before – a mindless little companion-omega. 

They all had taken one step too far. One way or the other, things would change.

Downstairs, he could hear snarling and the _smack_ of fists hitting flesh, groans and hisses but he didn’t spare that another thought. He knew their team could handle anything, knew that Jensen wouldn’t have chosen them as his confidants if he doubted their loyalty or their capabilities. 

**

It had been quite a surprise when the boss’ omega had approached Misha about ten months ago. Misha had always thought himself a little better than just a whore but had long ago given up hope that anyone else would agree. Being omega quickly rid you of any notion in that direction. 

But that day, a few days after it was clear that Jared was not going to get out of the trial as a free man, Jensen had appeared inside Misha’s room, sitting on the bed like he was someone, something better than omega. He’d let his gaze travel over Misha’s form, assessing and approving, if the raised eyebrow was anything to go by. 

Misha had felt himself heat up, where no omega’s look had ever made him feel self-conscious before.

“What?” He’d said, tried for growly and confident but not succeeding, Jensen’s lazy smile too unsettling to let him talk as he would with a fellow omega. When Jensen lay back on the bed on his elbows, Misha had made the decision that had brought him to where he was now – Jensen’s right hand man.

He’d started to talk to him like he would with an alpha.

Huffing, Misha remembered when it all changed, when Jensen had stopped being “the Boss” and becoming a friend. He’d taught Misha some tricks, filled his head with nonsense - how omegas were just as dangerous as alphas, if not more so. And the thing is… Misha believed him. Couldn’t not believe him, not when he saw that confident swagger, not when Jensen told him that there was nobody better equipped in getting people’s – and especially alpha’s – secrets. 

_“They look over us as if we’re not there. They talk over our heads as if we don’t have ears. They ignore our present as if there was not a man in front of them, and as if that man has not hands to hold a knife with. It’s perfect.”_

In just a few weeks, the two of them had come up with a plan and found a group of confidants to enable it if shit hit the fan. There was Misha and two of his close friends, whores you might call them, or just opportunists, as Misha preferred. Aldis and Mike, quirky, smart and surprisingly strong - perfekt for their little group. And Jensen had brought Minka and Kathrine, alphas since they were without the ever-important dicks, they weren't seen worthy by the male alphas. 

Alphas were easy to bring in; give them the chance of a better standing, power, and any alpha worth his or her salt would come running.

Same counted for Christian, who, by some evil twist of fate was as knot-headed and quick-tempered as every alpha but had for some reason stopped growing in his youth. The friendship with Jensen, an omega and also taller than him was a strange one, but it worked surprisingly well.

They’d planned and plotted and when the call came, they were in the right position to take out the most important structures in one coordinate strike. And now the call had come...

**

On the upper level, he didn’t need long to spot the right room, light spilling out into the dark hallway, creating a shiny rectangle on the dark blue carpet. 

As he stepped through the open doorway, the smell of blood, piss and feces made him stagger. “Jesus!” On the floor, neatly arranged, where two very dead, very bloody alphas – Patrick and David, he realized. David had a neat hole over his heart, something sharp having cut between the rips, right into it, and the guy was just dead. But Patrick’s throat was slashed wide open, his skin pale and waxy in the low light of the bedroom. He was, what in their line of work was called ‘very dead’, bruises starkly visible now that there was no life left. Something seemed to be stuffed inside his… oh, yes. Some of the blood was apparently coming from his nether regions, where something was very visibly… not there. Misha winced “Ouch…”

“Not worsh your shympathy,” a voice came from behind, from the bathroom, and Misha twisted on his heel to see Jensen leaning against the doorjamb, toothbrush in his mouth and still covered in drying blood. His hair stood in dark red spikes from his head and he looked so fucking sexy, deadly and dangerous like this. When he turned back into the bathroom, Jensen nodded at Misha to follow, then spit the toothpaste into the sink. “What took you so long?”

“Sorry, Boss. We had some trouble with the dumpster.” 

“Everything sorted?” 

“Yes, sure. We … uh, hired a new manager for the facility. He’ll be much better than his predecessor.” _Who was now joined up with the rest of the Stooge-team in the burn-chambers_ , Misha didn’t say. Didn’t need to.

“Good. We can give him some more work with these two… And Tom?” It was a question, though Misha wasn’t sure if it might be taken as an order. It was so much easier dealing with alphas, they just grunted _”Jump”_ and you just had to figure out how to make them forget it.

Usually didn’t take much.

“He’s down in the living room, with Katie and Mike. Didn’t know if you wanted something special with him. Maybe … make an example?”

“Huh…”Jensen was looking into the mirror, not really seeing himself. “You think I should?”

“Well... far be it that I have an opinion…”

“Misha,” Jensen twisted sharply, had him by the throat and growling into his face. He could see little pinpricks of blood on Jensen’s throat, deep but small punctures and for a moment, he forgot the danger and wondered where they’d come from. “If I wanted someone to lick my ass, you wouldn’t be here right now. None of you would. Now, again… you think I should make an example?”

“Y-yes,” Misha croaked and thankfully, Jensen released him. “Yes, you should. We can never get all of them, we’d never find them. Only thing that really works is make them too scared to act up. You know that.”

“That’s Jay’s method.” 

“And it’s a damn good one, and you know it.”

“Yeah…” a wistful little smile played around Jensen’s lips, and it looked fucking scary, with the blood flaking off. “Yeah. And he’s damn good at it. No-one’s scared of an omega.”

“Oh, don’t you worry… we’ll make them scared. We’ll make them piss their pants.” Misha patted Jensen’s back. “But first, get a shower.”

 

**

 

They really should have listened to Greg Henley. 

Kneeling in your own piss was so not what Tom had thought would happen to him any time soon. Now, he didn’t even care that he was, didn’t even care that snot was mixing with his blood and sweat and the blood and sweat of his men. Dave and Pat were dead, their bodies on display just next to him, a mocking show of what he would end up before the sun set. 

In front of him, everyone who ever had anything to say in this organization stood at attendance, watching in horror and silent fear how Padalecki’s little omega-boy, three whores, two female alphas and that tiny joke of an alpha-male named Chris were torturing and executing one after the other of the little mutiny they’d attempted. 

Not enough to be dead soon, but being put to their knees by a fucking _omega_ was enough to make tears sting in his left eye, the right already dripping out of its socket after that pretty female had gotten friendly with the heel of her shoe.

“Now, we clear?” The omega – Jensen! – was asking, and the whole room nodded. “This is Jared’s organization, and each and every one of you would profit from remembering that for the future. You ever try something as dumb and senseless as this,” he nodded towards Tom, who just wanted it over. “-and pay the price. Let me remind you that I’m the gentle one in the relationship…” he smirked “I’m the omega, after all…”

Tommy didn’t even feel it when Jensen slowly cut his throat, too grateful that it was finally over. 

 

**

 

The sun shone brightly when Jared stepped out of the gate. He’d been a bundle of nerves for the last week, and today he’d been so jittery that everyone kept a wide distance to him, even the guards. 

He wasn’t in the mood for a fight, though, nothing would make him endanger his release. He would get to see Jensen now!

God, he’d missed him, and not just the sex. Jared had always known that in their relationship, the fucking was the bonus, but he’d never been forced to acknowledge it in such details. 

Locked away and with no allowed contact except with his lawyer, Jared had missed his mate like a severed limb, missed him with an ache in his chest that even prevented him from giving himself some company with his right hand. 

He didn’t want a handjob from himself or others, not any kind of job – he wanted Jensen. Wanted to hear his voice and the touch of his fingers, wanted to be mocked and laughed about when he tried to be sexy in bed. He wanted to be rough and hard, and gentle and caring, wanted to be tied to the bedposts without any chance of freeing himself, Jensen going sexy-creepy on him with candles, knives and his tongue and teeth. Wanted to be ridden and even wanted to be taken. 

He wanted his _mate_ , and every day without him was like torture. He realized that, if ever something happened to Jensen, he’d not survive. He might live long enough to get revenge, but that would be it, no more Jared, not without Jensen.

And there he stood now, leaning against that big-ass car in jeans and a casual shirt, slightly scruffy with a pair of sunglasses hiding his stunning eyes and his strong, bare arms crossed in front of his chest, and Jared’s backside twinged in sense-memory of the scars Jensen had put there, the night before he’d left, the sharp sting of teeth breaking skin, the growls and snarls as he paid Jared back for the rough sex. 

His cock twitched in memory of that orgasm he’d had, just from the way Jensen had lapped up his blood as he tore another mark along his spine.

Jared stopped in his path, taking in the sight of his beautiful mate, so much sexier than any blushing, eye-averting, trembling, timid little omega could ever hope to be. A confident smirk played over Jensen’s face, and he loosened his stance to take off his shades. “Taking in the sights, Padalecki?”

“I just realized something,” Jared called over, not yet crossing the few feet distance between them. 

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“I realized that you’ve ruined me for anything else.”

Jensen laughed, a silent chuckle that nonetheless spread over his whole body. Damn, Jared would swear he’d gotten even more stunning in the few weeks apart.

“You better hope I did, Boss,” Jensen smirked, then started coming over, giving in without really… giving in, and Jared dropped his bag and met him in the middle, sweeping him up while Jensen slung his legs around his hips. 

God he’d missed him.

 

**

 

They stood like that until Jensen felt Jared’s arms tire. He wanted to cling to him for longer, wanted to do all kinds of illegal things to him but right in front of the prison was probably not the best idea.

He nudged his mate to let him down and the two walked over to the car.

“So, anything happen while I was away?”

“Ah, well… nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“Good, I never doubted that. Hey… isn’t that Misha? Why is Misha driving our car? Where’s Tom?”

Jensen stopped, taking in his stunning mate, his lover and boss and his whole life. “You might have to get used to some changes, baby,” he offered, smirking at Jared’s raised eyebrows. “Nothing bad. Just some… reorganizing. A little down-sizing here and there. Oh, and the Zairians have called to set up a date for your deal.”

 

**

 

That night, after some hard words and some loud words and a lot of kind words, Jared got everything he’d wanted. And a lot more. 

“Jensen?” he asked later, spent and tired and sleepy, clinging to the warm, heavy weight on his chest. “Are you humming the Bee Gees?”

“...Nope…”

 

_Here at the scene of the crime_  
Laid in your arms I will die  
But I know it's more than infatuation  
That's keeping this man alive 

_I'm the omega man, stand tall and understand  
Everybody needs a plan, mine is a better way …_

 

The end.


End file.
